


Blue scales

by Domcia880



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe, Connor the little merman, Digital Art, Fanart, Fluff and Angst, Gavin being an asshole, M/M, MerMay, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23360131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domcia880/pseuds/Domcia880
Summary: When the crew fished out some weird creature, Hank started having doubts that the sea was as safe as the world believed.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 38
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

There wasn’t a good place nor time to set the nets all over the waters as anyone would think. The sea lived its own fucking life and even Hank Anderson – the old fisherman, couldn’t do a damn about this. There were days when they could stay in the same area for a whole week, leaving only to unload their catch at the harbor and then go back, or the days with no luck – like today.

Hank knew the ocean was unpredictable but a couple of hours on the ship with not even a single one caught fish was just troubling. Not something he was expecting from the big load they’d caught here yesterday. But that only meant they should move further, there was no point in waiting for any chances and more important, he wasn’t paid for empty containers.

Fowler must’ve been thinking the same as he came out from underdecks and ordered to pull out the nets.

“Nice seeing you finally crawl out to breathe a good evening air, cap,” said Hank when the other came his way with not a pleasant look on his face, and then snorted when he was greeted with a middle finger.

They’ve known each other for more than one would like to, yet Hank knew Fowler was a good man, even better captain, and vice versa.

Fowler helped him a lot when his life didn’t turn out the way it supposed to. When he lost the person he loved the most in the world seven years ago. He changed into a depressed sack of shit back then unable to even care for his own son, only to finally open his eyes thanks to Fowler, who offered him a stable job.

“I’m not only sitting there sipping rum, Anderson. Every frikkin’ torn net needs to be reported and I’m gonna _tear_ someone apart when I found out you’ve got more hidden somewhere.”

“It’s not something I have control over and you know that,” Hank replied, getting kinda annoyed.

As if he could change the fact that their equipment wasn’t the best quality. They’ve got a lot of damaged stuff like nets or reels, but he was in no position to complain.

“Guys, the net reel got stuck again!” someone yelled from behind them. Hank needed to took a big breath just to not scream something near ‘told ya so’ in Fowler’s face, then looked away from him instead to see a crew gather in one place.

“You deal with this shit,” Fowler pointed a finger to Hank’s chest and then to his men, “and I take care of the reports.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Hank couldn’t help but roll his eyes when the other was out of his sight already and then hurried towards the crowd.

They managed to pull the net out of the water by hands without any problems since it turned out to be torn again. The only _problem_ was the net itself. Hank knew Fowler’s not gonna let them off the hook this time, but fuck, like it was anyone’s fault.

Then there was a hand on his lower back, making him jump a little out of fear – he was just so deep in thoughts. He turned around only to meet with that stupid face of Reed.

“Don’t be so worked up, old man, I only want to talk.”

“Try this shit again and you’ll swim with sharks.”

Reed face got serious at once as he crossed his arms. “So you also think that sharks’ work.”

“I’m not saying that.”

“Oh, so you need a proof? I’ve seen this before, Anderson,” he said with his eyes narrowed. “They can be quite intense feeling threatened. The best we could do is to leave them alone and get the fuck out of here or...”

The light shake cut him off suddenly and they both got hold of the rail to steady themselves. Hank looked at the man who was struggling with the rope as if trying to pull something out of water and failing miserably. He rushed his way to help the other and after a thought he grabbed handle of the net reel instead and tried to rotate it by his hands.

“Shit, what was that?” He heard a mutter right next to his ear and in no more than two second later Reed’s hands were beside his, helping. The mechanism gave up eventually – with some kicks and not so pretty swears – so they could finally pull in the last of the nets, which came out to be full of fishes.

A loud shout of approval echoed through the ship, everyone happy to see that they’re not gonna come back home with empty hands today.

Hank was ready to yell to the others that they made a good job when something caught his eyes among their prey. He wasn’t sure if he was seeing things but he could swear that a whole arm was peeking out at them. And there were no doubts it was from a corpse judging from the pale – nearly blue – color of its skin.

“Oh my god, is that a human?” someone yelled through the racket, interrupting Hank’s train of unpleasant thoughts, and in this very moment the rope broke all of the sudden, casting the fishes all over them. There was also a loud thud and Hank realized that must’ve been a body hitting the decks, so he looked its way only to find that it was not a body at all.

Actually a _body_ , yes, but with the bottom of a fish tail and skin partially covered in scales. He’d seen something like this in old books, heard tales told from some sailors but never had he seen one himself.

The mermaid.

The actual mermaid that shouldn’t have existed as the world presumed they became extinct.

But Hank knew better, had the proof before his very eyes. His own father’s stories, which no one believed, made sense now and he’s never actually thought that such dangerous creatures would ever disappear from the ocean as humans were not that big thread to them.

Most of the stories referred to hunting down the mermaids as an act of selfdefence, people thought it was safer to get rid of such danger before there would be more victims. It was not a secret that every sailor was afraid of being lured by beautiful voice and then get eaten.

But it was more than impossible to clear out the whole ocean, so many lands were yet to explore, not to mention the deepness of the waters. However, the last documented mermaid was seen over hundred years ago, so the world presumed it was safe to think that they were no more in any danger.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Reed was the first person to break the silence while the rest of the crew was still deadly staring at the mermaid – no, it was definitely a _merman_ , or so Hank assumed from the flat chest of it – then he nudged it with his right foot. “It’s fucking dead.”

Hank snorted at this so obvious comment and squatted down to examine the body. “Of course it’s dead, I wouldn’t expect anyone with a shit-ton of fishing lines wrapped around they throat to be breathing now.”

The merman’s upper body looked more human than Hank would like to, even with gills located at the both sides of its neck or the scales on some part of the skin. It was so hard to believe it was actually a beast known of killing people. But maybe this appearance was made to fool its prey.

Hank grimaced at the view of dark blood seeping from the wound and deduced it was probably strangled to death by the lines they used to patch up the nets. Guilt was not new to Hank, he’s seen a lot in this job already, but he couldn’t help this weird feeling creep up his guts.

He heard people speaking about taking it along with them, sell it then to the government as a proof. Without anything to say, Hank made a bee line to grab a railing and watch the sea.

He didn't like the idea of bringing it with them, he was afraid of chaos it could cause. When his father started making up stories – it turned out true now – people called him mad. Yet it caused rumors to appear, the growing fear of so calm ocean to be no longer safe.

“Move it somewhere, goddamnit, what are you waiting for?!” yelled Reed pointing his finger at the merman, then at the fishes barely moving at the floor. “And clean this shit up.”

When others started doing what Reed had said, he quickly came toward Hank and gave him a pat on his arm.

“It’s your lucky day, old man!” Gavin shouted, not hiding his excitement at all. “We gonna make some money out of it.”

Hank only sent him a scowl in reply.

“Don’t you think it should go from where we forcibly have taken it out?”

"You want to dump it back into the ocean? Are you fucking nuts?”

Reed looked at him as if he couldn’t believe his own ears.

“Listen, I don’t think we should intervene with something like this. And I know what you’re going to say,” he quickly added when Gavin opened his mouth to argue. “It’s a proof that they’re still alive, but you know what? Fuck this. I don’t want people to panic just because we found maybe the last living siren in the world. And if there are more of it-”

“That’s right, if there are more, we should catch every fucker for the old time’s sake.”

“What ‘sake’?!” The shout came louder thank Hank would like to and after checking if someone wasn't eavesdropping on them he immediately lowered his voice to a whisper. “Do you have any idea what would happen when you show it to the world? Think of people living near the sea and us working on this boat. Don’t forget I have a son, goddamnit!”

 _Cole. Think of Cole_ , called a voice in his head. When the government declares that there’s a possibility of danger, Hank would be done with this job. Helping at harbor wasn’t going to afford them a good life. There’s food and school to pay for.

“Listen, I-”

“Boss!” Came from behind Gavin’s back and they both turn around in unison. “We put the siren in the container along with the fishes. Is there anything you need now?”

“Actually, there is.” Reed approached the other guy, then he turned over to face Hank and spat, “This conversation is not over, Anderson.”

Hank wished it was.

*

Loud shouts were digging inside Hank’s head making his headache more intense, but who was he to complain? Free beer was always a win and he liked beer more than rum or whisky, especially when he didn’t have to pay for it. His insomnia wouldn’t let him sleep anyway.

They were celebrating their load at the dining hall, so of course there were lots of people ready to sing, tell jokes and utterly irritate him. And like speaking of the devil Hank’s eye caught that stupid silhouette of Reed making its way toward his lonely table.

Hank sighed when the other occupied the chair next to him ready to leave, but when a new beer was offered to him, he decided to grab it and stay.

“What do you want, Reed?” Hank took a sip from the bottle, then put it back down on the table when Gavin looked at him with his brows furrowed as if asking what he meant. “Oh, come on. We both know you’re not nice to anyone without wanting something in return.”

Gavin looked around cautiously, as he leaned forward and said, “Let’s just talk.”

“Go on.”

“I talked to the cap, it was actually his idea to throw this little party.” Hank tried to hold back the sigh escaping his throat, but to no avail. Reed seeing his reaction continued with a smirk, “Don’t be such a sourpuss. Tomorrow is a big day so better get some sleep before you actually pass out here.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” grunted Hank and he emptied the rest of the beer in one go.

“I just wanted to inform you that there’s that one friend of mine who’s dealing with... “Reed looked up in thought as if trying to get his words sound right, “unique cases as ours.”

“Wait, you have a friend? The world is ending...”

“What I’m trying to say is that he would pay us hella money for our precious prey. I don’t trust the higher ups to go to them with it.”

“I’m starting to wonder if there's anyone worth trusting.”

“You’re still mad? What the hell man!” he snapped, standing up. He grabbed with one hand the back of Hank’s chair then put the other on the table, leaning toward Hank. “You said it before, about your son. Don’t you want a better life for him? You need this fucking money as much as everyone else.”

Hearing him babbling about his son made Hank stand up as well. Gavin straightened up at the sudden move and crossed his arms.

“I am thinking about him right now, that’s why this idea is awful. I’m not putting my own son in danger only because you want to earn some money.”

“He was already in a danger, the difference is that you’re aware of it now. Don’t fool yourself, Anderson.”

Oh, how he wished to woke up in a world where they didn’t fish that stupid siren, it would be so simpler.

“There must be a reason they’ve been hiding all this time. Think about it. I...” Hank was already out of the words. He couldn’t believe he was the only person out here to think showing it to the world was actually the worst decision. “We don’t need another war, especially not one like this.”

“It’s not a human, so what war?” he snorted, giving Hank a doubtful look. “Think of it as just another fish and stop giving me that shit.”

The reply didn’t leave Hank’s mouth as some guys came to them with more beers and Gavin took one. He winked at Hank before he exited the room and Hank did the same apart for grabbing two drinks with himself instead.

He didn’t want to go underdecks to have some sleep, the room was probably occupied anyway. There were only two rooms down there – Fowler's office and one spare room to rest – as this was not an ordinary ship with cabins. The times they had a night cruise like this evening Hank could probably count on his one hand.

He leaned his back against a wooden balk and let his knees give up to sit on the floor.

Was he really getting paranoid or was it just his imagination? Gavin was right in one thing – what they saw a few hours earlier was certainly not a human being, he was just afraid of Cole getting attacked when he would near the sea with Hank or his grandmother.

He drank half the bottle in one swing when his eyes wandered toward the container with fishes. His bladder was screaming at him in need but he felt too tired to move a finger and before he realized the darkness embraced him integrally.

*

When Hank woke up it was already a morning. The sun was peeking at him from the horizon but he was in no mood to admire it. He grimaced at the pain in his stomach and was really surprised that he hasn’t pissed himself already. With a little of fight he got up eventually to make a trip toward the edge of the ship. He grabbed the rail to steady himself feeling that he was still a little drunk and then he took care of his need.

When he was in the middle of it, he heard a loud thud at his left making him nearly fall down with his dick still out the pants. When he calmed down his breath, he looked that way only to find nothing at all, so he blamed it at the ship. Not first time it was making weird cracking noises.

He managed to empty his bladder at last and when he turned around the view of someone crawl on the floor made him stop in his tracks.

“Holy shit...” he forced out his raspy voice to speak with more intensity than he thought, because the dead merman they put in the container earlier was staring at him with big brown eyes.

Hank could not move a bit for some time which felt like eternity. He came back to his senses when it made a move toward the ledge, all in hastiness. There could be heard some quiet cries as it slowed down to pull at the lines digging into its tail which made it probably difficult to continue the escape.

Hank noticed a line of blood on the floor from where it freed itself to its actual position. So it was injured heavily, actually Hank couldn’t believe that it was still breathing, still has a strength to move.

He hasn’t moved an inch till now, like in a trans, but he felt the urge to leave it be, let it save itself. But... The knife in his pocket suddenly weighted a ton as if trying to remind him that its ready to use, so without a thought he grabbed it and pull it out.

The merman was staring at him again with a face full of fright. It maneuvered its body to be facing Hank now and Hank looked at the traumatized tail – probably the effect of dragging it across the floor. Tiny sobs got stuck in his ears, so he moved his sight higher to watch the tears run down the scaly cheeks.

Hank could swear he has never felt this way before, so anxious and nervous at the same time. It was no way in hell that this scared thing before him could hurt anyone, Hank had eyes and they were telling him now that it only wanted to go back home. It reminded him of human child losing its parents in a crowd, so much for a murderous monster. The only thing eating him now alive was guilt.

He moved eventually, but as he predicted it only made the merman panic even more. It tried to flee once again injuring itself further and Hank wasn’t sure if he didn’t imagine things but between all the cries he swore he heard pleas of help.

He had no idea if sirens could talk the human languages or had their own, but it looked like it was babbling incoherent words so fast Hank couldn’t copy at all.

“Don’t pull at it!” he demanded when the creature tried to free itself once again “’m gonna cut them but don’t move.”

It suddenly calmed its breathing and let go of the fishing lines as if it could understand him. The brown eyes were still full of unshed tears ready to fall again.

Hank guided the knife under the line but when he tried pulling it to cut down, the cold hands were on his in a second. “I know it hurts like a bitch, but just stay put, okay?”

The hold only tightened further for a moment but then it let go eventually and Hank still couldn’t stop thinking about how those hands were not freezing as he expected. They were actually slightly warm, just not the Hank’s temperature level.

He managed to cut all the lines down and tug it out from the between of the tail’s scales without any signs of protest, which seemed weird. But when the wheezing noise hit his ears, he instantly remembered about the lines around its neck. Shit, he had no idea how it could just wake up after being strangled by them, but he didn’t want it to die now for sure.

Hank furrowed his brows seeing the teeth peeking out from its open mouth – they were slightly sharpened at ends, sending chills down Hank’s spine – as it tried to catch a breath. He had no time earlier to examine the merman thoroughly and... Fuck, like he had time now!

He quickly changed his position to have a better access to its neck, then he noticed that the line got caught on the old nail sticking out from the wooden floor. After cutting it down, the merman started coughing heavily and then there was quiet again, so Hank took care of freeing it completely.

Should he leave it be now or help it to the water? One look at the shaking merman made it clear, so Hank put the knife back into his pocket and stepped behind it.

“I just...” he murmured as if asking for permission to touch it. Then he shook his head and grabbed the pale arms to help it sit. “I’m gonna put you in the water, is that ok? You’ll be fine on your own now?”

He seriously didn’t expect any answers, so when it looked up at him with its eyes nearly shut from the fatigue and _nodded_ , he felt his insides twisting in a weird way. The thoughts of it being more human than everyone presumed made a mess in Hank’s head.

He wondered if it had any chances of survival with such wounds. Maybe even if the merman died later, it would at least go somewhere out of the fishing area and no one ever find its body again. But Hank still had a small hope that everything gonna end happily.

With that thought he took a hold of the railing with one hand to pull them both closer to the ledge. Shit, it was so heavy Hank’s old knees buckled slightly at the pressure, but he finally managed to get it to destination. One push was enough and it landed in the water.

Hank needed to take a big breath to calm himself down, he was way too old for lifting weights and if he wasn’t sober the moment he’d woken up, he was without a question now.

He was leaning against the railing with his head down, asking himself in mind if he did the right thing, but then when he opened his eyes, he caught a sign of the brown ones. The merman seemed fine now in the water, dipped to the bridge of its nose and staring up at him like it could not believe what just happened. Hank could barely follow himself, so he just stared back until it dived showing the whole tail, which illuminated in shades of blue under the sun light.

For a moment Hank was simply mesmerized by the sight but then it all came to stop. The voices from inside got louder by the seconds meaning that everyone just got up, ready to start a day. And here he was, standing alone at the edge of the ship all covered in dark blue blood as he wondered what big trouble he got himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy how many feedbacks this story got so far. You're so amazing!

_Home, sweet home,_ thought Hank as he stood before the front door of his house. He was away only for one night but it was enough for him to miss his family. 

When he was inside, he didn’t even take off his boots because a big, hairy dog made it impossible. 

“Sumo!” he called, trying to shoo him away for a moment to at least undress his jacket, but the jumps didn’t stop. He knew he couldn’t help it, Hank was as happy to see him as Sumo who finally calmed down when Hank kneeled down to pet him. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.” 

“Dad?” 

Hank heard a soft voice coming from the hall so he stood up and smiled when the sleepy figure of his son appeared before him. It was barely after seven, nothing’s weird that he was still in his pajamas. To be honest Hank would be actually surprised to see him already changed. 

Hank wanted to ask him if he woke him up but before he could, small arms circled around his belly in a warm hug. So Hank picked him up to embrace him as well, he just couldn’t resist. Even though Cole was a big boy now, he was still a sensitive child, raised without a mother. 

“Hey, bug,” he started as he tried to toe his shoes off, this time without any disturbances. Sumo was sitting neatly on the floor, but his wagging tail and eyes full of hope betrayed the nervousness building up inside him. Hank knew he would attack him more later ready for some cuddles, but now he looked like he was restraining because of Cole in his arms. Dogs were such smart creatures, Hank was glad they decided to bring him home from the pound. “How you’ve been? Hope you didn’t get under granny’s skin this time.” 

“He was good as always, Hank.” 

Hank looked at the person leaning against the door frame – his mother-in-law, and he sent her a warm smile. “Hello, Bridget.” 

Bridget Anderson was always there to babysit Cole, during his absence. Hank tried to persuade her to give it a break since she was only getting weaker through the years, she was nearing her seventies after all, and Hank was more than aware how troublesome it could get to raise a seven years old kid. Yet she never complained, what more, she was always eager to see her grandson, no matter the time. 

He had no frikking idea what would happen when she was no longer there. Babysitting aside, he would just find another person, but she was like a real mother to him as he barely knew his own. 

“Let me put Cole into bed, he was awake the whole night,” she said reaching her hands to grab the kid, and it was then when Hank noticed an even breath at his neck and little snores. He didn’t handle him over, just headed towards Cole’s room himself. 

“I’ve got him. You should probably rest as well,” he just responded before opening the door. 

He knew if Cole had no sleep tonight, she hadn’t either. They were probably worried sick, waiting for his arrival and he would’ve been home much sooner if it wasn’t for a certain fish. Why it was so hard to forget about those pleading eyes and his choices back then? 

_“The decision of your suspension was already made, there’s nothing I can do,”_ had said Fowler when he entered his office yesterday. 

And Hank was aware that being suspended didn’t actually mean he would ever return to this job. It could be permanent at times, just put in pretty words. 

The awareness of losing his job didn’t push him to make up some stories how the merman ended up in the water. There was no guarantee if anyone would believe him, he had its blood everywhere, on his hands, soaked in his clothes, saying he just spotted it fleeing was out of place. 

So he had just been standing there ready to swallow whatever Fowler was going to throw at him, though the only remark hitting his ears was, “ _I’m sorry, Hank.”_

Hank knew if Fowler let him stay aboard, it could’ve caused a rebellion. Everyone on the ship wanted him drowned for what he’d done, even Reed was oh so fucking kind to remind him his own words of disapproval all the time. But Hank couldn’t rewind the time and even if he could, he was never sure if he didn’t end up in the same situation, anyway. 

Hank looked at the sleeping face of Cole after he tucked him in bed. Any decision he ever made was for Cole’s own protection, but maybe he did wrong this time. Maybe he should have killed this merman before tossing it into the water. 

No, he wouldn’t do that. His conscience wouldn’t let him, though probably if he sensed any threat, he would’ve just defended himself, but there were none. Only a lost living being which was as scared as any human could be. 

Hank exited Cole’s room and saw his mother-in-law sitting on the couch in his living room. The woman was watching tv and it made Hank leaving another sigh from his mouth. She was supposed to be resting now, as it was too obvious she pulled an all nighter, not waiting to have a chat with him. But he joined her anyway, silently following with eyes the moving images on the screen. 

“I tried to persuade him to have some sleep, but he wanted to wait for you,” Bridget started after a moment. Hank looked at her face and with her gaze still glued to the screen, she continued. “When it was past two o'clock, I knew you weren’t coming back till the morning, but he still didn’t want to go to bed. In the end, we both dozed off here.” 

She laughed so softly, and this time she finally made a move to look at Hank. She put his hands in her as she spoke further. “Hank, is everything okay? Last time you didn’t come right back home was when the fire made it impossible. What happened this time?” 

“We had a delivery to the southern port. If not for some... problems, I would’ve probably returned tomorrow.” 

“Hank, you work as fisherman, why do you need to make deliveries now?” she asked, furrowing her browns what caused the wrinkles on her face to deepen. 

“It doesn’t matter. Not gonna work on the ship tomorrow starting, so what they do is not my concern for now,” he explained, but Bridget’s eyes suddenly widened and before she could say anything Hank squeezed her hand in a signal he’s not done yet. “It was just another bicker, nothing to worry about. Gonna be back on duty as soon as things settle down.” 

“Is Jeffrey out his mind?” she fumed as she leaned back on the couch and even though it looked like she was ready to speak some more, no words leaved her mouth. 

“Everything’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.” 

Hank repeated not knowing if he tried to convince her or himself. 

* 

Through all two weeks, Hank caught himself thinking about the merman more than he would like to admit. Everything just reminded him of it, a fish lying on his plate at dinner, the blinding sunrise when he was on his way to work or just the calm sea. 

Knowing that down there weren’t only fishes or other animals, but also a human like creatures, made Hank staring at the waters more frequent as if expecting to see a blue tail sticking out of there. He shouldn’t think that way, he knew that, but he just couldn’t help but wonder if the merman was okay. 

And again, when he was finally home, another object referring to it was hanging on the surface of the refrigerator. The drawing of a beach – nothing out the ordinary, it was Cole’s favorite place – but what caught Hank’s eyes was a person sitting on the sand. A person with blue legs which ended with what looked like fins. 

Shit, Hank felt his insides crunching at the thought of Cole meeting it. He took a big breath to calm himself down and then took the picture off the fridge. 

Maybe it was just his son imagination, maybe Cole was never actually at the beach in the first place, he promised him he wouldn’t go anyway. He was aware that mermaid’s subject wasn’t a taboo, everyone knew they existed a long time ago. If it wasn’t for school and tales they’ve been sharing with a young generation, people would forget about them already. 

So, was it really weird for a child to draw a mermaid? Hank would just let it go if he wasn’t in this fucked up situation. 

“Cole?” he called as he took a few steps toward the living room. “When did you draw this?” 

Cole stopped playing with his toys and when Hank saw those nervous eyes look up at him, he knew something was off. “Am I in big trouble, dad?” 

Hank only sighed heavily. How could he say yes, without even knowing the reason? Hank always believed Cole was very responsible for a kid in his age. “What happened?” 

“When we were walking Sumo with grandma today, he started barking and then ran away towards the beach. I didn’t mean to go there alone! I’m sorry, I really didn’t-"

“It’s okay, I’m not mad, Cole,” Hank interrupted when Cole stood up from the floor and started to panic. 

“You’re not? Really?” 

To be honest he was mad but not at his son nor Sumo for breaking free. He was fucking mad that he needed to ban his own son from doing what he enjoyed so much. 

“Yeah,” he smiled and then handed over the picture to Cole. “So, who’s that?” 

“That’s just the mermaid Sumo scared off.” 

If Hank was drinking anything right now, it would be all over himself straight away. 

He never actually expected this as an answer, even though he had already this feeling that something was not right with the picture in the first place, but why Cole was so calm was a question now. He should be more affected with seeing something that shouldn’t exist on this planet anymore than thinking about the reprimand he would get from Hank. 

Hank just needed to play his cards right. 

“So you’re saying you saw a mermaid and it didn’t eat your head off?” 

He then picked Cole up before he could answer, and tickled him like in the good old times when Hank’s back wasn’t screaming at him every time they were playing together. 

“Dad, s-stop it!” Cole laughed, trying not to choke, so Hank put him back on the floor. 

“Let’s make some sandwiches, I’m starving.” 

* 

Bridget came back before sunset with bags full of groceries. Hank needed to remind her once again that she was not a maid to run errands in his stead, but it only ended in another senseless conversation, so he gave up. He decided to go on a walk since Cole had someone to keep an eye on him. 

When he was nearing the spot Cole had mentioned at supper, Hank wondered if he really would find it there. Maybe it left already, or never been there in the first place. But as he passed by the withered grass and some bushes, the lying creature immediately got spotted by his eyes. 

The merman was on its back, propped by elbows. The tail was flipping slowly in the rhythm of what sounded like humming. It all stopped though, when the merman opened its eyes and turned the head to look up at Hank, this time without freaking out. 

The stare was so intense, it made a shiver run down his spine. Either way, he decided to talk to it once again. 

“What do you think you’re doing? I didn’t save you, so you can show yourself here.” 

“What am I doing? I’m sunbathing.” 

“Yeah, you’re sunbathing, I can see that, but what are you doin- wait, you can actually talk?” 

Why was he so fucking surprised hearing it speak now, he had no idea. It had already showed Hank it could understand him perfectly. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” 

“You were so damn quiet back then, you know?” 

And Hank knew how dumb he sounded – he should be more than aware why it was unable to speak the day they fish it out, but right now he felt so troubled, the words leaved his mouth without thinking. 

“I tried to reason with you, but my throat was in a bad condition,” it explained and Hank’s eyes moved down almost mechanically to take a good look at merman’s neck, then he grimaced seeing small pinkish scars. “It’s recovered now, so I can finally thank you.” 

Hank felt his insides flipping when the creature rolled on its side and still supporting its body with elbows it said, “Thank you for saving my life.” 

“Yeah, your welcome, now go home, I don’t want more of you to show up here.” 

“I’m all alone. No one could follow me since I’m not a part of the group anymore.” 

"Why?"

If they lived in groups, then why did it abandon its kind? Hank was not going to lie, he was so damn curious and now when he verified it could speak for real, so many questions were racing through his head. 

The merman’s eyes lowered down as if it was thinking but after a moment it looked back at Hank. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to cause any troubles, I just wanted to find you.” 

“Okay, you achieved your goals, what’s holding you back then?” 

“I thought if I could...” 

“Look, as you noticed before people are not fond of your race." Hank cut the merman off while it was trying to say something. He knew it wasn't here for him only, just one look was enough to confirm it enjoyed being on land. The way it beamed with happiness while its hands played with warm sand. Or the way it watched the waves crushing on the shore. Hank recognized this look as he’s seen people daydreaming all the time. “You can’t just stay here.” 

“I’ve been avoiding humans. Apart for you, of course, I wouldn’t let anyone near me.” 

“You’ve been doing a shitty job then. My son saw you.” 

“Oh...” it muttered quietly, furrowing its browns in confusion. 

_Yeah, oh..._ Hank thought and sighed at a sudden change in merman’s voice. It seemed very sad at the moment, maybe even sorry? 

"He must’ve seen me when that big, hairy monster tried to devour me! I barely managed to escape.” 

“A what now?” Hank laughed so hard. He remembered Cole mentioning that Sumo run into it, but he could never imagine him actually trying to attack anyone. “You mean Sumo? He’s harmless.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve never met any Sumos before. But by all means they not appear as gentle as you claim. This Sumo tried to mark me with its saliva and if I never made it to the sea on time, I’m afraid we couldn’t have had this conversation.” 

“Holy crap, Sumo’s a name. He’s a dog,” Hank tried to keep a straight face, but when the merman tilted its head in indication that it had absolute no idea what was that dog thing, it was finally the time to lose it all. So he needed to cover his laugh with a hand to not look like a creep. “A pet you keep in home.” 

“I’m confused, why do you keep some animal? Do you eat them later?” 

“No, God no.” The thought alone made a shiver run down his spine. “We keep them to have a company and most people think of them as part of the family.” 

“Oh, so you keep the fishes as pets, too?” 

“No!” Hank knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he just couldn’t help. It was like educating a five years old kid. “I mean there are some types you can put in an aquarium, but we eat fishes.” 

“I think I’m kinda lost.” 

So it turned out this merman was pretty talkative and very curious, just as Hank. He should probably tell it to go away again, but a little chat wouldn’t kill anyone. 

“Do you have a name?” he asked one of many questions his mind was throwing at him right now. 

“We’re not named. We mostly communicate in water, so using a number of an egg to call each other is simpler. And since I hatched as eighth, I go by Eight.” 

“That’s pretty fucked up if you ask me.” 

“It’s just practical as we cannot transfer many informations underwater.” 

“Wait, so you have seven siblings? Huh, that's a lot..."

“Actually, the female type can produce approximately twenty to twenty five at most eggs at mating season. I’m not sure how many were in my case, but only the three of us survived,” it explained and for Hank it sounded like out of this planet. He should probably have guessed mermaids were not born in human way. Not with that fish tail they got. “I mean, the hatching, our older brother passed away some time ago.” 

“Uh, sorry to hear that.” 

“No need," it assured as it began nervously picking in its tail's scales. "Can I ask you something?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“I can’t help but wonder if there’s any reason you saved me. I heard some of you talking that selling me would be beneficial, so why?” 

Hank would lie if he said he wasn’t thrown aback by this question, yet maybe he should have expected that. What he saw before his eyes was a living being with an intelligent mind, so of course it would be wondering why he saved it. 

Though he couldn’t just say something along _‘You look so human_ ’ or ‘ _I was drunk’_ , those words weren’t good enough. 

“Look, I have a son. I’m not going to risk his life for some coins. If people think you don’t exist anymore, it’s better to leave it like that.” 

“You’re so different than our kind pictures yours. Maybe if my brother met you, everything would’ve turned out in other way.” 

Losing someone close was always tough, Hank knew it all too well, and now he could feel a growing connection between them as they both were in the same boat. 

“What happened to your brother?” 

“He fell in love with the wrong human.” 

The response was quiet, Hank barely caught what the other muttered. It was staring at the sea, apparently averting Hank’s gaze. Was it ashamed, or was it just angry at him for what happened to its brother? Hank wasn’t aware till now the mermaids could feel such emotions like love. He didn’t know a shit about them to begin with, and now everything he already was taught turned out to be not true. 

The merman finally looked back at Hank, but the brown eyes were not as cheerful as before, Hank could see regret growing inside them. It opened its mouth – to speak probably about how it shouldn’t have told Hank about its family – but then the slightly long ears perked up and it moved its head to look somewhere behind Hank. 

“Someone’s approaching,” the merman said, moving its body to reach the water. 

“Listen, you really can’t stay here,” Hank called behind it, hoping it was the last time he’s going to see this creature. He would like to speak with it again, but it was too much of a risk. “Go back home.” 

It only smiled at him in response and Hank swore he has never seen such a gentle smile before in his life. 

“Goodbye, Hank.” 

Hank didn’t remember telling it his name nor he couldn’t guess where it could learn that. Maybe the merman was actually near harbor where Hank worked now, or maybe it caught it on the boat that morning, he couldn’t tell. 

So he was standing there, looking at the spot where the merman disappeared in the waves, until a random couple run beside him holding their hands together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Working at harbor was not new to Hank as he sometimes helped there to earn some extra money, but a whole day of carrying numerous things and unloading many containers was so exhausting, Hank had barely strength to came back home after a week. His back hurt like a bitch, legs were always swelled up and his condition worsened in general. Of course, everybody could hear him complain earlier, but now Hank felt like he had finally a right to do so. 

Fowler’s ship was a different story. They worked hard as well, yet being on a higher position than a normal person was a key. He was supposed to merely keep an eye on younger workers, but having years of experience, he has never slacked off. And what would encourage youngsters more than a good influence? Yet by no means he would ever let them take advantage of him, Hank was standing a hard ground and when it was necessary to made them back to job, he had no objections. 

There had been days he felt worn out, too. Especially when their old equipment didn’t cooperate and they needed to use their own hands. Yet Hank could never compare it with working his ass off at the docks. 

Today’s work was rather relaxing, though. They had only five containers to load so far and there’s no sight of any approaching ships, so the crew took care of cleaning seaweed and fishes scraps off the platforms. 

World probably thought it was a great moment for Fowler to come by. “You’re doing good, I see.” 

“Hello, cap,” Hank greeted bitterly as he leaned on the shovel and looked at the man. 

“I’m no longer your captain, Hank,” Fowler pointed out as if he couldn’t hear the sarcasm in Hank’s voice, which made Hank barely refraining from saying something inappropriate. 

“What brings you here, anyway?" He asked instead and after putting down the shovel, he took a few steps toward his former boss. “I’ve got no time for chit chatting, as you probably can guess.” 

“Someone’s finally listened to your whining and I’ve received not that small gift. We’re in burning need for some people.” 

“So you want me back? Just like that?” he asked not believing what he heard. His brows automatically furrowed as he crossed his arms. 

“I don’t remember anyone saying you can’t move into another ship,” Fowler declared and the corners of his mouth got slightly up. What was this fucker up to, Hank wondered as he knew all too well it was actually Fowler himself who kicked him out, why would he change his mind now? Although he was aware this decision was kinda forced out by the rest of the crew and Fowler only had the final word to it, Hank still had a feeling he shouldn’t trust him yet. “Look, I don’t have all day, take the offer or stay for the rest of your life in this shit hole, see if I care.” 

“Gavin’s not gonna be happy about this, you know that.” 

“This little shit should be thankful we let him sail back with us after he snapped at me or I would’ve thrown him overboard and either he’d swim half the mile himself or just drown there. He is the last problem you should be concerned about now.” 

“Wait, what?” Hank questioned feeling confused. There were more times Reed behaved like a snarky motherfucker than the stars on the night sky, so what the hell did he do this time to piss Fowler off? “You kicked him out?” 

“He left before I could even think about that,” Fowler admitted. “I don’t tolerate people who question my decision, but... as much as he was a real pain in the ass, I won’t find anyone else like him.” 

Hank could see the point. Reed was a real asshole for most the time, but he did his job just excellent. It was a big blow to lose him, not to mention they still were dealing with Hank’s absence. 

That explained why Fowler was so desperate now. 

“Anderson!” 

Hank let a sigh escape his mouth when he heard someone’s yell. He noticed a new ship coming their way, so maybe in five minutes they’d be ready to take care of it. “Coming!” 

He didn’t move an inch after he called back, though. Fowler was looking at him as if he wanted to say something, so he waited silently. Not for too long, because the other took few steps toward Hank and gripped his shoulder. 

“Gavin wanted to gather men to look for that frikkin’ fish, but I told him to cut the crap," Fowler said with lowered voice and Hank could see a sympathy in his eyes. “It was alive back then, wasn’t it? That’s why you saved it.” 

Of fucking course Gavin wanted to retrieve the body from the ocean, Hank predicted already it was going to happen. But there was no body to fish out in the first place and it was better to not reveal the truth. Even if Fowler seemed to figure everything out, Hank had no intention to confess anything to him. 

So he just shook the hand off his shoulder and took a step back. “I’ve got a work to do.” 

“Hank, I’m not judging you. I’m more than aware you had a good reason!” 

Hank couldn’t see Fowler’s face as he picked up the shovel from the ground and was coming back to the platform already, but what his ears caught made him stop in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, only raise his one hand lazily in a goodbye gesture. “See ya, cap.” 

Hank paid no attention to the looks that were thrown at his back when he started moving boxes out the container. He just wished this day was going to end soon. 

* 

When Hank came back home it was dark already. They needed to stay extra hours, because as the work was calm at the beginning, some delayed ships thought it was a good idea to show up at the same time and they had no other option than dealing with them to the last remaining one. 

He was thinking about Fowler’s proposition more and more often by the day. Not only his back would like the idea, Cole would also appreciate him at home more frequently. And he finally would have his normal salary back. 

He greeted Cole and Sumo, who were playing together as he entered his bedroom to grab pants and any undershirt he used to sleep. He dreamed of a warm bath since his lunch break. 

Hank noticed Bridget sleeping on the couch while he was in his way to bathroom, so he made a move back to grab a blanket and cover her with it. 

He should seriously think about finding someone who would help her taking care of Cole. For fuck’s sake, she had her own house, a husband waiting for her everyday, it was not fair to let her stay away from her own family for so long. 

After a bath he was in the living room again, sitting by the table. Cole was right beside him as he stated he was hungry again, so Hank shared his dinner with him. 

“When you’re done, go to sleep. It’s past ten already.” 

And as Hank thought, Cole had no intention to eat anything at all. The whole time he poked at the veggies with a fork and Hank couldn’t really blame him. Kid probably only wanted to spend some time with his dad and it was something embarrassing to just ask. So Hank let him be as he paid attention to his own plate. 

“Dad, are you working tomorrow too?” Cole questioned still looking down at his food. 

“No, I have a day off.” 

Cole’s head perked up hearing this, eyes suddenly sparkled with hope. Loosing completely his interest in eating, the boy stood up and came toward Hank to shake his arm. 

"Then, can we go to the beach together? I wanna know if Connor is okay!” 

“Hey, hold on, Cole! Jesus, what’ve gotten into you suddenly?” Hank grabbed smaller hands to stop the pulling before he could drop his fork on the floor. He could understand Cole was happy to finally have a chance to play with his dad all day, but something was wrong with that weird excitement. “If you want to hang out with your friends, then take them here instead. I’m not babying anyone near sea who can’t swim on his own.” 

“Dad, I don’t want to meet with my friends. I want to see Connor, again!” 

“Who is this Connor then?” 

Hank observed as Cole run toward the refrigerator and came back with a picture in his hands. Hank felt his stomach couldn’t accept any more food, because when Cole pointed a finger on that goddamn person he’d drawn some time ago, it clenched painfully. 

“Him!” 

“You named the mermaid.” It was more statement than question and Hank could feel his headache striking again out of nowhere. 

“Yes,” Cole nodded with a big smile. “Isn’t Connor a nice name? My friend has a fish and he calls it Connor, so I thought it fits him perfectly.” 

“Cole, I thought we were past this.” Hank massaged his forehead. He was so fed up with making up any more lies, just to keep Cole out of the mess he himself created. The only reason that merman came here was because he decided to meddle with something he shouldn’t have. “What you saw could’ve been just anyone. Hell, if I saw such a big dog racing my way, I would’ve jumped into the water myself!” 

“No, I know it was a-” 

“We’re not talking about this anymore!” 

He had no intention to raise his voice like that, but every time this creature was mentioned, he seemed to lose his shit. Cole evidently could read the situation as he put the picture down and went to his room. 

While he was heading toward his bedroom, loud snores could be heard from the couch and Hank wondered how didn’t she wake up though the racket they made. 

* 

Hank couldn't sleep this night at all. Between all these thoughts constantly coming though his mind, he could also see Cole’s face, so pained and terrified. He never meant to yell at him. But there also was no place for excuses, he knew that all too well. 

The remorse was not the only thing keeping him from getting some sleep, the weird noise of something being scratched was driving him crazy, so he got up to search for the source of it. 

“Sumo, for fuck’s sake!” Hank shouted seeing his dog pawing at the floor. Sumo whined in response and that only meant one thing. 

It was enough to slightly open the door and Sumo could’ve just taken care of himself, but Hank thought the fresh air would help him clear his head as well. He just needed to get changed – and he needed to do it fast if he didn’t want to clean Sumo’s shit later. 

The old grey hoodie was more than good, no one's going to see him at two o’clock after all. Even if he would’ve run into someone, he still looked quite decent with it and black sweatpants. 

He quickly grabbed a leash and after attaching it to Sumo’s collar, he opened the door. Little prick immediately pulled him outside and got his things done under a small bush. Hank waited patiently as he looked at the sky. It was cloudless, so he could catch every star shining up there. 

“Good boy,” he praised when Sumo came his way, then petted him softly. “Yeah, we’re going on a walk.” 

Hearing his favorite word, Sumo’s ears perked up. He didn’t need any more encouragement, already pulling at the leash and Hank by the process. 

They’d been everywhere Sumo lead them and Hank decided after a good twenty minutes of wandering around, it was finally time to go back. He let Sumo sniff at the last lamp pole and when they were back in their way, Sumo suddenly stopped. Both ears up, he was staring somewhere far away. Hank tried to tug at the leash and called his name for multiple times, but the dog didn’t even budge. 

Not until he started barking. Hank only felt a sharp tug and it took him two more seconds to realize what just happened. His hand was empty, Sumo’s barks less powerful than earlier. 

Hank immediately took off after him, but thankfully he didn’t have to run for too long as he spotted Sumo standing on a wooden wharf not that far away. He took a big breath to calm his speeding heart and then walked toward Sumo to grab the leash again. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling down and scratching him behind his ears. Sumo didn’t appreciate the affection at all, though. He kept staring at the water, whining and shifting his legs as if he was on the edge of exploding. “Nothing’s down there, calm-” 

He didn’t finish because a splash of water hitting his face made it impossible. He stood up right away, many not so pretty words escaped his mouth as he tried to wipe himself with his sleeve. 

“It’s nice to see you too.” 

After those words came a very familiar chuckle. Hank looked down to meet with brown eyes, but before he could say anything, Sumo barked with excitement and Hank was afraid for a moment he would fall into the water. The dog was whining again with his head down as far as he managed only to try sniffing on a poor merman who seemed to be petrified. 

“Easy, Sumo,” Hank warned as he pulled at him with a leash. It seemed to calm him down a little bit, so Hank turn his sight to a boy. “Don't be afraid of him. He just wants to play with you, that’s why he's so damn pushy. Wanna pet him?” 

Hank didn’t expect it to agree, so when it nodded tentatively, he could feel the corners of his lips moving up. The merman swam slowly and reached one of its hands behind Sumo’s ear, coping Hank’s gesture from earlier. By the time its movements became bolder as the other hand joined in and the merman beamed with joy, touching everywhere it could. 

“He’s so soft,” it concluded finally, giving the dog one last squeeze. Before the merman could move from the spot, Sumo whined suddenly at the lack of the attention and bumped his nose right into its face. Hank was too late to pull Sumo back, he already was licking at the pale cheeks. 

“You’ll be fine, it’s just a spit,” he reassured, watching the merman swam back with slight panic as it touched the glistering skin, then it all of the sudden dipped underwater. “Hey, wait, Connor!” 

First Hank thought it was never going to surface again, but then the head appeared, eyes open wide with shock. 

“Sorry, he drools a lot when he’s happy,” Hank explained as he unclipped the leash from the collar, because Sumo started pulling again but this time in different direction. He watched him go out the wharf onto the land where he resumed smelling at things, then Hank turned his sight toward the creature. “And he’s so fond of some licking.” 

“What did you say earlier?” the merman asked, swimming slowly closer as it seemed to be safe for now. It grabbed the wood and looked up at Hank, curiosity visible in those big eyes. 

“It’s a spit, it’s not toxic or anythin’.” 

“No, when you called after me. Connor, what does that mean?” 

Shit. 

Did he really just use this stupid name his son came up with? Well, the name was stolen from a frikking fish, and in a way, it was one as well. 

“My son thought it was a good idea to name you. It just got stuck in my head, sorry for that.” 

It only smiled softly hearing Hank’s explanation. “I don’t really mind, you can call me whatever you like.” 

“It should be rather you to decide.” 

“We don’t have the same concept of naming as you, Hank. Although, if I were to choose, Connor sounds nice.” 

Hank mentally agreed as he sat down. He wasn’t worried about Sumo’s self being, it was not the first time he let him off the leash. As long as he wouldn’t find another mermaid to torment, everything was okay. 

“So, Connor. Do you think of ever coming back?” 

“I...” He nervously looked down at his own hands. Hank noticed that his fingers were webbed with a seeing through membrane, nails slightly longer than human’s. “When I told you my throat was completely healed, I wasn’t really honest with you.” 

“What do you mean?” Hank furrowed his browns. Apart from little scars, he couldn’t notice anything out of order. The voice was okay too, a little raspy, yet still pleasant to hear. 

“As it looks to be in perfect shape, it turned out my gills are not functioning properly. And I’m afraid that’s going to be permanent.” 

“Are you trying to tell me you can’t breathe underwater?” 

“I find it very difficult when trying, yes,” he nodded and Hank could see the sadness written all over merman’s face. 

“How did you even make it out here?" He asked, still feeling kinda shocked. It was pretty far from where he dumped the creature into the water. 

His stomach flipped as he recalled all these moments he pressured Connor to go back. As he believed the boy stayed here only because of his own selfish reasons. Yet he always had a big smile on his face and never showed any form of hostility, even though Hank wasn’t that nice toward him in the beginning. 

“I am able to hold my breath for a really long time, longer than any human I think.” Connor’s voice brought him back into reality. “I just needed to swim near the surface and take a few breaks for air exchange.” 

Hank couldn’t even imagine how Connor felt being unable to live in ocean. He didn’t even know what should he compare it with. Losing a leg, or both perhaps? 

Maybe he really shouldn’t have saved him that day. Maybe he only put the kid in the worst scenario and prolonged his suffering. Who knew what else Connor was hiding from him. There was always a possibility of finding him dead one day, and just thinking about it made Hank sick. 

“So, what are you planning to do now?” Hank asked, looking at the merman. He seemed to be occupied by playing with his own hands, nervously rubbing the skin or occasionally pulling at the scales. 

“I don’t know,” he said and after a moment, the brown eyes moved to meet with Hank’s blue ones. “I guess I’m stuck here. But at least I have you, now.” 

And he literally beamed and Hank felt so done for a moment. Even the tip of Connor’s tail – which was above the water – was moving in a weird, slow motion. It reminded him of Sumo when he wagged his own tail happily and much, much faster. 

Hank needed to clear his throat hearing those words. He never signed up to baby anyone – especially not a fish, but his conscience was telling his now that he was kinda responsible. But how exactly could he help him? Having someone to talk worked for people, and Hank guessed it was going to work for Connor as well, judging by the merman enthusiasm. 

Maybe those creatures weren’t as different from humans as he thought. To think they lived deep in the ocean without any way of expressing themselves was just so fucked up. Connor mentioned earlier that they only communicated only when necessary, so how sad was it to feel so much and yet cannot scream it out. 

“I also like that I don’t have to put many efforts in hunting,” he continued with a light smile. “Fishes here are so simple to catch! And, of course, this spot when you found me first is the best for sunbathing.” 

“Connor, you can’t just sunbath here.” 

“My ears work better than yours, I can tell when someone's near. I’ll be fine.” 

Hank could tell that Connor wanted to reason further, so he opened his mouth before the other could. Someone had seen him already – and it was Cole on top of that – so he wasn’t going to let the same situation happen again. “No, if you want to stay, then no more sunbathing.” 

In a second Connor was back in water, sunk to his chin, and he pouted. He frikking pouted, just like Cole while angry and Hank didn’t know if he was in position to laugh or should he try to hold it in. 

When he stood up, he noticed Sumo laying on the other side of the wharf, when the entrance was. They should go back, he felt tired already, Sumo would probably appreciate more Hank’s couch not the chilly wood. 

“Gotta go,” he informed him and it made Connor swim back to his previous position and look up at Hank. 

“Goodnight.” 

“Night, Connor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\\(^ω^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love! Have a chapter full centered on our dorks ♡

Fowler called Hank a few days later with an information that he’s expecting him at the work at monday, which meant tomorrow was the last day at the harbor before weekend. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the offer, but he needed more money now. 

Cole was still kinda sulking and they didn’t have enough time to settle the things between them as he had stayed the last weekend at his grandma’s. Hank hoped to catch him after coming home from his work one day, but either Cole was out, or Hank had to stay extra hours. 

The friday finally came and Hank felt as if the day was never going to end. There wasn’t much to do so two hours felt like eight, and before he reached a lunch break he was already tired. 

Such a boring day. 

But the boredom was gone as soon as a dead fish slapped his face and then landed on a ground. Hank didn’t need to look around to find a culprit, a splash of water and a sweet laugh that followed answered everything. 

“Do I really need to remind you that you shouldn’t be here?” he asked as he approached the merman, who was leaning on the platform, the rest of his body in the water. 

“I’m not meant to live above the water in the first place, but it’s not like I have any other option," Connor said with a slight of irony as he smiled at Hank. "And you have no idea how bored I was on my own.” 

“You’re bored? Play tag with fishes or whatever the hell you spent your free time, just don’t appear at my job like that. There are too many people here.” 

“You don’t expect me to stay in hiding for the rest of my life, do you?” he questioned but when there’s no response, his face fell a little. "Maybe there are more humans like you, Hank. Maybe they would understand.” 

Hank knew that was never gonna happen. If they could fight against each other over things like skin colour or religion, how would they accept something they believed no more existed? It was better to destroy everything that’s different. Hank maybe didn’t think the same as others, but he was a human. He perfectly could understand their reasons. 

“You think too highly of us. Did you forget how they treated you back then?” 

“They thought I was dead.” 

“And they were pretty disappointed with that. Don’t try to defend anyone.” 

Connor was too naïve. How could he have so much faith in humans after all he’d been through? 

When someone walked from the building, Connor in a second disappeared in water. Hank realized that his break was going to end soon, so he wanted to grab some stuff before getting back to work. A quiet voice stopped him, though.

“Will you see me later?” 

Hank moved his head down to look at Connor, whose eyes were shining with hope. How could he say no to them? 

“Yes.” 

Connor sent him a warm smile, then finally dived under the water. 

He went to grab some nets to clean the sea from dead fishes that fell off from the containers during an unload, but as he came back, he noticed every fish was gathered in piles on the platform. 

“Show off,” he snorted, then started cleaning everything up. 

* 

Just as Hank promised, as soon as the sun started making its way down and the sky burned in orange reflections, he stepped on the wharf. Connor was already waiting for him, sitting silently on the wood and looking at the sea, his fins dancing on the surface of the water. When he spotted Hank, his hand immediately shot in the air and he waved it with excitement. Though, he missed when he tried to put it back on the wood, making his whole body to stumble forward and crash into the water. 

Hank couldn’t help but laugh. Were all mermaids that clumsy, or was it just Connor? On the second thought, he didn’t want to know any more sirens, probably Connor was one of the kind, so curious about humans, so kind and innocent. 

“I was going to get into the water soon, anyway, so please, don’t laugh at me,” Connor complained as soon as he surfaced and gripped the edge of the pier. A blue blush spread along his cheeks, going down the neck, and hell, was it cute. 

“You laughed when that fish butt smacked me in the face,” he said, sitting down on the spot which was previously occupied by the merman. Then he remembered about the piles of fishes on the platform. “Thanks for cleaning our mess, by the way. Bet you had a feast down there, didn’t you?” 

But his smile vanished as Connor face grimaced in disgust and he wondered what the hell did he say wrong. 

“Those fishes were dead for a long time, Hank. I would be probably sick now if I’d eaten them.” 

“What, so you like them alive?” 

He had never talked with Connor about his food choices. Never asked him if the legends were true. Maybe now was a perfect chance to learn something. 

“Yes, just like the humans.” 

“What..?” Hank needed to cough to not choke on his saliva. Connor said it with a straight face, not giving him any reasons to doubt him, but when a sweet laugh escaped his lips, Hank knew he was just fooling around. 

“It was a joke, Hank,” he comforted him. “I’ve never heard of any siren who eat humans. However, there's a lot of stories of you hurting us.” 

How was it that every time they talked about humans, the knowledge Hank had previously inside his head appeared to be false. They were greedy bastards, he was not going to argue on that. 

On the other hand, he didn’t know any other mermaid to compare. And Connor was... Well, _Connor_.

“Hank.” Connor swam closer and put his elbows on the wooden surface of the wharf as he leaned in toward Hank, arms nearly touching his crossed legs. “You know I was joking right? You’re not actually afraid of me?” 

“Who would be afraid of such baby face?” Hank blurted out without thinking. It was probably the first time they were so close, with Connor not fighting to breathe, of course. Hank could see everything. How his eyelashes fluttered with every blink, eyes no different than human’s. How the sun reflected on the scales on his cheekbones when Connor moved his face even so slightly. 

“Oh, really?” Connor snorted, probably amused with the response. “Then swim with me.” 

“No, thank you.” 

He would probably say something more, but Connor’s hand was suddenly on his wrist and the boy looked at him in challenge, lips curved in smile, before pulling Hank in the water. The crash was nowhere near comfort, as he landed face first into the surface. Breath got knocked out of his lungs, and fuck, that hurt. 

He would probably suck in a mouthful of water there if Connor didn’t pull him up. 

He coughed a few times, wiped his dripping, aching face, then looked at the merman who seemed to be enjoying himself. “Are you crazy?” 

“You wanted me to play tag, so let’s play. Catch me, Hank,” Connor challenged as he swam away, still facing Hank. 

But as long as he moved forward a small wave pushed him back and the thought of him being underwater again crossed Hank's mind at once. He absolutely preferred staying on land. 

It wasn’t like he’d never tried swimming before. He loved the feeling of cool water against his heated body in a warm day, but not when he couldn’t touch the ground with his feet. It was kind of terrifying not being sure how far he needed to went down to hit the bottom, not to mention the place was desolated as no one wanted to swim here. It made a perfect spot for Connor to live. And just ideal place for Hank to get drown. 

At least with little legs work he didn’t sink yet. 

He tried to move again and even made some progress, but then again when a larger wave crushed at him, the current carried him with it. 

“What is it?” Connor asked, but as soon as he realized that Hank had a slight problem with moving forward, he broke with a heavy laugh. “You spent your whole life sailing on the sea, but you can’t actually swim?” 

“I swim just fine, so keep your sassy comments to yourself.” 

“I can’t help it, you move your hands like a newborn turtle that tries to get into the sea. It's way too funny.” 

“Oh, shut it, you lil’ shit.” He splashed the water at Connor, and seriously didn’t expect a comeback until the water hit him right in the face. Connor’s tail was playfully moving above the surface, ready to attack once more, the merman drifting on his back. 

The cold water sent chills through his body, Connor seemed to notice that and in a second his hands were on Hank again, this time trying to help him out of the sea. Hank circled his fingers around merman’s arms, but as long as their skin made a contact, he felt a sharp pain. 

“Ow,” he said in surprise, immediately letting go of Connor to check on his bleeding finger. 

“My scales expand in water,” Connor explained, voice full of regret. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.” 

Connor let go of Hank’s arm and grabbed his injured hand instead, looking intense at the cut and oozing blood as if he wanted to analyze it. 

“It’s okay, kid.” 

But it wasn’t okay at all, because the moment those words leaved his mouth, Connor’s lips closed around his bloody finger. He had no idea what was inside that fishy mind, but his _own_ seemed to stop working. 

It stung when a tongue moved across the wound, when a sharp tooth catch on a damaged skin. He felt a growing emotion inside his chest, but couldn’t tell which one. Fear perhaps? Was he scared because Connor assured him mermaids didn’t eat humans, and here he was now, sucking at Hank’s fingers as if his life depended on it? 

“It has different color than mine, but taste similar,” he concluded at last, bringing Hank back. He wanted to mutter ‘no shit, kid’, but the voice would probably get cought in his throat, so he look down instead. Connor fingers were playing with Hank’s wrist now, caressing the skin as he run them up to the forearm. “You’re so warm.” 

Hank wasn’t warm at all, but he figured that for someone who spent his whole life in the cold ocean, he might feel like burning. 

“You feel so warm...” Connor repeated in lowered, dreamy voice, still staring at his hands touching Hank’s. He spoke something else and by the time Hank realized he was mumbling. “I wish I... I-I want to...” 

Then something brushed at his clothed legs and he realized it was Connor’s tail as the scales grazed at the fabric of his pants. It felt like Connor was trying to embrace him with his bottom, and fuck, Hank _definitely_ didn’t feel a sudden wave of warmth inside him. No way. 

“Connor?” 

“I just..." He tried again, but nothing else came out of his mouth. He looked up at Hank with a sad smile instead and backed up a little. “It’s nothing, let’s just get you out of the water. You’ll catch a cold.” 

Connor lead him to the pier, keeping a distance between them, and Hank pulled himself up. 

There was a silence between them as Hank tried to drain his shirt. Connor wasn’t looking at him, only somewhere to his side. He seemed embarrassed, but was he really? Hank didn’t know. 

He knew that he needed to change or he would freeze. 

They exchanged their goodbyes, but Connor's sight still avoided him at all costs. 

* 

Hank’s face grimaced when an unpleasant smell hit his nose. He decided to ignore it and laid on his back, but as long as he changed the position, it came back. With an added weight. His eyes shot open when he felt something wet and slippery on his cheek, and his sight crossed with Sumo’s. 

The dog was panting heavily ready to lick again, but when he realized Hank wasn’t asleep anymore, he got off him. Then came the barks and Sumo sprinted out of the room, only to be back after a moment to rush Hank’s slowly movements. 

“Fucking hell, Sumo,” Hank complained, fighting a yawn, but to no avail. He needed to ask Bridget later if she didn’t change the dog food, it was a second time Sumo begged for an urgent walk at two o’clock. 

He didn’t want to go with him, so he just opened the door for Sumo, but when the dog didn’t budge an inch from his place and started whining again, Hank knew something was off. 

He’d never acted like this, maybe once when he sensed Connor on a walk, but could he do it from here? Probably not, but Hank’s mind needed to be one hundred percent sure. 

He changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants and then stepped outside. The night was warm, much warmer than yesterday when Connor made Hank swim with him, so he didn’t have to cover his arms. 

Sumo finally moved and immediately took off somewhere ahead of him, still barking at Hank to follow, so Hank just ran behind him. He prayed in mind that it wasn’t for nothing, that Sumo wasn’t just bored or missed Connor. They hadn’t seen each other for a while, he could understand that, but not at this ungodly hour. 

Sumo led him to the beach and stopped at the shore, whining and smelling everywhere. As close as Hank was getting to the sea, he could tell someone’s lying on the sand. It was too dark to guess if it was an actual person or not though, but when he was close enough, Hank could feel his heart stopping. 

He froze in place seeing a blue tail, partially hidden in the water. 

Connor was on his stomach, hands above his head as if he tried to crawl forward but had no energy to continue. But he seemed to be awake, he grimaced when Sumo licked at his face, and that made Hank sober. 

“Sumo, get off him!” he shouted, getting closer. As the dog complied and stepped aside, he immediately went to his knees to check on the boy for any injures. 

“Hurts...” Connor cried reaching one of his hands in his direction. Hank took it and helped him move a little closer, so the merman landed with his chest on Hank’s lap, desperately gripping at his shirt. 

As the wave faded away for few seconds and the blue tail was fully shown to Hank’s eyes, he believed his mind just stopped working. It was torn in half, not to the hilt yet, but it looked like it was going there the more Connor moved it. There was so much blood everywhere, Hanks could only see blue. 

“Hank, help me, please,” Connor begged weakly, voice muffled by the shirt, but Hank could hear him just fine. It was like he was aware only of Connor’s presence. Every gasp, every cry that leaved merman’s lips seemed to be heightened. Nothing else mattered. 

There was no way in hell he could save him this time. It's not some lines to cut off and he would magically recover like the other time. Connor lost so much blood, Hank could smell it in the air, could feel how his sweats soaked with it. He wasn’t going to make it. 

Hank forced his hand to touch Connor’s hair, run his finger through it in soothing motion. Maybe he could just lull Connor to sleep, rock him until he found a peace, make him feel safe in his arms, only if for a moment. Oh, how he wished he could take the pain away or share it with him. 

Hank closed his eyes when Connor’s hands finally loosened on his shirt and fell down. 

No, he refused it to be over. Not like this. 

Slowly, the surroundings were beginning to reappear again to him, Sumo’s barks became louder, not suppressed by an imaginary wall of glass anymore. 

Then he looked down. 

As the waves splashed at Connor’s bottom, washing the fresh blood away, Hank’s eyes caught a glimpse of red. It was oozing from the wound, mixing with the blue on the sand. The fins were gone, scales were falling down from the skin. As hard was it to believe, Connor’s tail wasn’t torn, it was transforming into legs. It looked horrible, very painful, like an animal being skinned, but alive. 

The merman felt limp in his arms, Hank needed to be careful to turn him around and lay him on the sand. 

“Connor,” he mumbled as he shook the boy, but there was no response. He quickly palmed his neck for a pulse and breathed a big sigh of relief, when a vein pounded against the skin of his fingers. 

He had no idea what was going on, why Connor was in this state, but he needed to move him somewhere safe. 

Hank picked him up, one hand around the shoulders, the other under the knees. The remained scales dug into his skin painfully, but he tried not to think about this, as he run toward his house, Sumo right beside them. 

Hopefully Cole was away at Bridget’s again, so at least he didn’t have to explain anything to him in all this hastiness.   
  
Hank put him in his bed, not caring about his covers getting dirty with blood. He could do a laundry later or just throw everything away, it could wait. Connor couldn’t. Not in this state. Not while looking so exhausted. Hank needed to check the boy for a pulse every passing minute, he was _that_ afraid. 

“You’re gonna be okay...” he whispered, brushing his hand through Connor’s unruly hair and then put it on his forehead. He felt feverish, so Hank moved to grab a towel and went to the bathroom to get it wet with cold water. 

When he was back, he checked the pulse once again, then put the towel on Connor’s forehead. 

He hoped that the kid would wake up soon. Whatever was happening to him now, he knew Connor was strong, he survived this far already. He should be okay, but the thoughts of him dying was still there, haunting Hank. He couldn’t chase them away, no matter what. Connor was pretty durable when it came to danger, but Hank swore the boy would just shatter with one touch if he wasn’t careful enough, he seemed so fragile now. 

The transformation seemed to stop after a moment and Connor’s breath became more steady. Hank stared silently at the boy. After all these weeks together, seeing Connor with actual legs seemed more abnormal than the tail itself. His facial features became more human, the gills were gone and the skin – still pale, yet now in a healthy way – was only left with few small moles. The scars on his neck still remained, though. 

Hank covered the boy with blankets as gently as he could muster, and then sat down on his armchair next to the bed. He had no other option than waiting for Connor to finally open his eyes. He needed to monitor him all the time in case anything bad happen. 

Hank had never heard of any mermaid turning its tail into legs, not even from old tales, and he knew many. Maybe those creatures weren’t even aware of the possibility. Maybe it happened only to the ones being above the water for a long time, just like in Connor case. Hank could speculate the whole night. 

One thing was certain, though. 

_Connor was a human._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! c:


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!  
> I've made some fanart of Connor for this story and it's posted in chapter 1 c:

The whiteness of the ceiling was the first thing to greet Connor’s eyes when he finally opened them. It was blinding, making him nearly dizzy, so he needed to wait a few more seconds to adjust his sight and blink the slight headache away. 

It didn’t help as much as he would like to, though. 

When he tried to cover his face with a whole arm, movements sloppy and slow, Connor’s attention switched to his hand before him. It had a pale, peachy color, this sick blue tone gone along with the scales on the top of it. Fingers were separated, nails short. 

Those were humans hands, and when it finally clicked in Connor’s head, his body moved suddenly to sitting position. He immediately regretted this action as the vertigo made the whole room spinning. He needed to support his body with hands by putting them on the mattress behind his sides. The panic rose inside him, he felt like suffocating. One breath, then the other wasn’t enough, so by the time he started hyperventilating. 

Was it a dream? Or did he maybe die? 

The only thing he remembered from last night was an awful pain in his bottom part and he had no idea what caused it. Then there were flashbacks of Sumo and Hank, but maybe he only imagined them. Maybe he’d only wanted to see Hank for the last time, before losing the consciousness. 

He tried to calm down his breathing, but it became worse when he felt the sensation of skin touching the skin where his bottom supposed to be. He didn’t need to check what’s under the blankets, he could already guess that far. 

Did sirens turn into humans after their death? 

But he didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, to spent his time with Hank. He never actually thought he would get close to a human like that, it was prohibited. So maybe that was his punishment for disobeying, the same his brother faced. _Death._

Connor’s body shivered at the thought, tears blurred his vision. The tightness in his chest didn’t want to release him from its grasps and it hurt. It hurt to be aware of never seeing his family again, even though it was already hard to do so as his gills didn’t work. He still had that small hope to meet with them someday. 

A loud snoring sound made his lungs suck a mouthful of air that suddenly felt too much for them to take, so he needed to cough it back. He looked to his right and there was a human sleeping in a chair. 

_It was Hank._

Connor didn’t understand what was going on, why was Hank in this place. 

Before he realized, he was reaching for him, but as long as he got to his knees to move forward, they gave up and his whole body slipped out of the bed. He made a startled sound, completely not expecting the fall, then a small curse leaved his mouth after hitting the floor. 

“Con?” 

There were hands on him in no time, helping him stand up. He tried to make it easier for Hank by putting some strength on his legs and rise, but it was no use, just like he lacked the muscles in them, so he let him drag his body up into his arms. 

“Are you alright?” Hank asked immediately, circling one arm around Connor’s waist to support him, the other placing on his upper back. “Are you hurt?” 

All he could muster was a weak shake with his head still buried in Hank’s shirt. His knees did hurt, but it was getting better by the time. 

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked again, impatience raising in his voice. “Connor, speak to me.” 

“I...” he tried, but words got stuck in his throat. There was a big bump he couldn’t swallow, so he coughed. “I don’t know.” 

Hank did not say anything, but Connor could feel one hand travelling from his back, along the neck to his hair, caressing them lightly. 

_This is not a_ _dream,_ he concluded in his mind as his fingers tightened on the fabric of Hank’s shirt. Everything felt too real to be just a dream, too painful. 

“It’s not,” Hank said suddenly, startling him a little. Oh, the words had come out aloud from his mouth probably, without him realizing it. Hank grabbed his arms and moved Connor away, just to look at his face. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you’re done for this time.” 

“I-I was sure I was going to die." 

He looked down, fighting the feeling of growing fear that bubbled inside his chest. It was worse to actually admit it aloud. 

“Good thing Sumo was alarmed that night, either way you...” Hank didn’t finish, but the sadness in his voice told Connor everything what was inside his mind. He would die. He would freeze to death if Hank hadn’t saved him. “Hey, you’re shivering. Lemme help you to the bed.” 

Connor didn’t even realize when his body started to tremble. He felt so cold when Hank stepped back from him and his hands were no longer around his naked waist, warming him nicely. 

Hank tried guiding him toward the bed, but Connor’s legs didn’t want to cooperate, so he nearly stumbled forward if it wasn’t for an arm catching him again. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got ya,” said the voice right next to his ear and he felt Hank shuffling behind him. “Quick walking lesson. Raise one leg, move it forward, then step on it and start with another.” 

Connor wished it was as simple as the instruction sounded. The very moment he raised one of his legs, the other started trembling heavily and nearly buckled at the pressure. He put it back and noticed that standing didn’t hurt him anymore. He felt finally stable, his limbs getting used to his weight. 

“Don’t raise it that high. Just shuffle it forward.” Connor could feel Hank’s foot nudging at his heel, encouraging to move. So he raised a leg only a little and dragged it along the floor to finally stood on it. “Yeah, just like this. Now the other.” 

It took only two more tiny steps to reach the bed. Hank helped him get into it and covered him with the blankets, but that was not enough to warm Connor up. 

“Stay with me?” he asked, grabbing Hank’s hand when he began to move away from the bed. 

Hank only blinked at him, then finally opened his mouth to speak, but Connor pulled him toward himself, so the man landed on his elbows. He sighed heavily, then got under the blankets and Connor could feel the heat radiating from him. His body inched toward to the point when its front was literally glued to Hank’s side. He threw a hand on his belly and got surprised at how comfortable and warm it felt to be this close to someone. 

“You’re warm...” He was aware he was mumbling again, just like the other time when they were swimming together. When he nearly confessed he wanted to feel Hank’s body pressed against his, warming him up, but it was impossible at the time as Connor’s skin wasn’t created for any forms of affection. Even slight touch could hurt someone, be it human or another siren. 

He would never forget when his younger brother had shoved him away from the danger, wounding his hand that much that he needed to favour it for a few months. 

But this body was different. 

Everything felt so sensitive, so delicate. Even those blankets, that caressed his naked skin, felt good, keeping the warmth inside and not letting the cold crash at him. 

Water was always cold, that why he adored sunbathing that much. Even if his system was capable of adapting to the temperature, it still felt numb to live down there. 

Connor had always wondered how it was on the ground. Ever since his older brother told him in secret he was seeing a human, told him stories about humanity in general. How he observed them walking, holding hands and hugging each other. Everything sirens weren’t able to do. 

But one day his brother – Seventh – never came back. Connor had learned by the time that he was killed by the same human he fell in love. The elders were outraged when they found out he was emerging to the surface despite all the bans. Everyone was disgusted by his action. Everyone but Connor. 

This human never took his brother’s body, it was found in the ocean just like some garbage. When Hank’s crew pulled Connor out of water, they only thought about money. Why would someone kill a siren to get rid of it later, if humans craved to see them? 

Connor felt the tears forming behind his closed eyelids at the memory of his brother. He wanted so bad to know what happened to him, but it was impossible. 

He snuggled up to Hank some more, the sleepiness taking over him suddenly. 

* 

When Connor woke up again, the place where Hank had laid previously was empty. His head didn’t hurt anymore and the feeling of overwhelming coldness was gone as well. 

He threw back the covers and moved to a sitting position, looking down at his own legs. He was too tired before to marvel at them, too terrified of what had happened to him. 

The fingers on Connor’s thigh felt cold, he nearly jumped at the sensation, but didn’t remove them. He ran his hand toward the knee, amazed at how soft and sensitive the skin felt. He looked at his toes and tried moving them. Oh, it was surprisingly simple, much easier than flipping his fins. 

When his legs curled up and parted, he grabbed one foot to feel it up as well, but quickly let go as a weird itch spread along its bottom. He noted to not touch his feet anymore in the future and wondered if Hank’s were ticklish too. 

Thinking of Hank always brought a warm feeling inside his chest. He couldn’t actually make a sense of what that meant, but he didn’t dislike it. Hank was someone dear to him, his savior, of course he would be so interested in him. These feelings didn’t seem odd at all. 

He sat at the edge of bed, letting his feet meet the floor, then tried to stand up. His bottom flopped back into the mattress at an attempt, though, so he threw a hand to grab something, which happened to be Hank’s chair. Pulling himself up turned out to be much simpler than without any help and so the standing was. Like the other time he shuffled one leg forward and happy that he didn’t confront any issues, Connor made it out to the door. All he needed was a little push as they were not closed. 

Hank was busy with something, probably making food or so Connor guessed from the smell stuck in the air. His mouth watered right away, he wasn’t even sure when was the last time he ate anything. How long was he unconscious to begin with, he didn't know either. 

He was still leaning against the door frame when Hank spotted him and without any warnings the man was before him as he grabbed one of Connor’s arms and pushed him back into the room. 

“Okay, back you go.” 

Connor didn’t know what was going on until he was placed to sit down on a bed again. Something was thrown at him and he realized it was a black cloth, but what was he supposed to do with it was a mystery to him. 

Hank came toward him with another cloth that he recognized as a shirt, similar to one Hank was wearing now. He didn’t like the idea of dressing up into anything, he was perfectly fine like this, thank you very much. 

Hank didn’t seem to like how Connor’s body reacted – arms that crossed protectively over his chest, a big grimace of disapproval that his face showed. 

“Connor.” Hank’s warning voice didn’t actually scare him but Connor did look up at him, not trying to fight with a pout. “You can’t wander around with your naked ass pointed at everyone.” 

“You never complained before,” was all he said and what he really meant, because he knew he was already at a lost position. He could understand that people wore clothes all the time, but Hank should understand _too_ that everything was so new to Connor, that his body didn’t get used to being a human yet. 

“Yeah, but you had a tail and scales and... other shits to cover you up.” 

“You do realize that all my organs meant for reproduction and excretion were still visible, do you not?” 

And at that Hank was all red in instant. He coughed a few times into the back of his hand, before opening his mouth again. “Jesus, kid. Don’t make it difficult, there are other people who live in this house, not only me.” 

Connor wished he could see through Hank’s reaction. Was he really not aware that he was naked the whole time they’d spent together? Or maybe that, just as Hank pointed, the scales were _not_ _enough_ to cover him up? 

Connor muffled a chuckle that wanted to escape his throat. Hank was so clueless sometimes, but should he really judge someone who didn’t know anything about the creatures Connor previously was? 

“Okay,” he agreed, eventually, then when the other stretched the fabric of the shirt so the hole for a head was in front of Connor, the hands that were still on his shoulders, shielding him from Hank, dropped to his sides. 

Hank hummed approvingly as he moved forward and started dressing Connor up. When the other arm went past the hole and the fabric embraced him entirely, he didn’t even have time to look down at himself or grimace as Hank’s hand grabbed him by the ankle. 

There was a weird pang inside his chest suddenly, his heart skipping a beat. He learnt before that his legs were so sensitive and to have Hank _touching_ them made the skin on them tingle in a nice, warm way. Hank's hands were different from his own, they were bigger and rougher. Connor couldn't stop the fluster spreading all over his face as he felt something moving toward his knee. 

Oh, the weird cloth Connor had in his hands a minute ago was gone, he realized, as it slided up his calf, then his other leg was raised and done the same. He was actually so into the sensation, that his brain didn’t register him standing up at all, so he was kinda in shock when the cloth clamped around his waist and his own fingers were fisted into Hank’s shirt. 

“Here. Not that bad, huh?” 

There was a pat on his lower back, a small reminder that he could let go now, so he did so, then stepped back. 

“It’s... fine,” he admitted truly, because the clothes didn’t bother him as much. They were not the best fit, yet didn’t seem to be loose enough to fall off. 

By the time Connor found himself sitting on the couch, Sumo splattered all over him, whilst Hank was back at making food. The smell made it difficult to focus on the weird box with moving pictures on it that Hank turned on for him, so the brown eyes shifted nervously between the screen and kitchen complex. His empty stomach turned out to be victorious, though. 

He managed to slip off the couch without waking up Sumo and shuffled forward the dining table, not trusting his legs yet to raise them properly. Just as he sat down, Hank placed a plate before him. 

“I didn’t know what your stomach can take, so have your usual.” 

“That’s a fish?” Connor asked, poking at the brown skin and could feel his face fell when it burnt his finger slightly. 

It did smell amazing, but he was afraid of eating something dead. 

“Were you expecting me and you going to hunt it down and eat raw? Nice way to get sick” Hank commented with an audible irony, putting down a glass of water next to Connor’s plate. “That’s how we eat, and how you should probably eat when you’re like this.” 

Hank was right, in this body he should eat like other humans do to prevent any illness that may occur. Humans bodies were too fragile, he noted in his mind. But he had one now, and he should listen to Hank more to not get in the troubles. 

So Connor tried the fish. 

He tried it by grabbing it with both his hands and biting at its head and Hank actually screamed seeing this. 

“What the hell, no! Not like this!” 

Connor looked up at him with innocent eyes, completely not understanding what the whole ruckus was about. He tried to bite into the head once more, but those human’s teeth were too weak to actually crack it up. 

The fish were still hanging from his mouth when Hank grabbed it, then pull it out from between Connor's lips. 

“Why does it feel like I should've expected this?” Hank whispered to himself, looking up at the ceiling, then moved his sight back at Connor. “The meat is what you eat, got it?” 

Connor stayed silent for a moment, before mumbling, “But the head is my favorite.” 

“Okaaay,” he said with a strange look on his face, Connor couldn’t interpret. Something between disgust and being surprised maybe. “You need to separate the spine from the meat first, it’s easier than picking it with your fingers from between the bones.” 

He showed him everything with one swift motion and Connor wondered why any task humans do for living was so complicated and time consuming. 

The fish turned out to be delicious. He wasn’t expecting the meat to be that soft and delicate, a complete contrast to what he normally ate. To be honest, he had no idea if his taste buds had just changed along with the rest of his body, or humans food was always this good. 

Hank grabbed the pan and poured some fried veggies onto Connor’s plate, then snorted seeing him planting a small potato inside his mouth. “Remind me later to teach you how to use cutlery.” 

Connor wanted to nod, but all of his attention got directed toward the front door as someone opened them widely. Two humans stepped inside the living room, looking at him as lost as Connor felt himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! （*´▽`*)


End file.
